Twenty Questions
by Squirrel Stone
Summary: Danny had really hoped his first time playing this game would be at an A-List party, not in his kitchen at three in the afternoon with ghost possessing his sister.


Danny was still panting while she was perfectly fine, wandering around the kitchen preparing a snack like she lived there. He hated her for that, whoever she was, waltzing around in his sister's body. An ecto-blast couldn't knock her out of Jazz, and she hauled his ass back to Fenton Works, refusing to answer any questions he had or _let his sister go, dammit!_

At least his wounds were healing at their normal rate. The bruising and burns were half gone, and the gash on his stomach probably wouldn't even scar thanks to Jazz's- _whoever's_\- cleaning and bandaging. The shaking would probably stop soon, but he couldn't be sure. He wasn't even sure if it was from the fight or from the rage he still felt.

"You're holding her hostage."

Not-Jazz stopped in the middle of leveling some peanut butter inside a celery stick. She turned her head, shooting him a strange look, then went back to her task. They both knew he wanted to hit her with everything he had; they both knew he wouldn't for risk of hurting Jazz. This was like Johnny 13 and Kitty all over again, only a million times worse. He didn't see a hint of his sister in there, just her captor.

She put the knife in the sink and closed the cap on the peanut butter before picking up the plates and _sauntering_ over to the kitchen table. She put one down in front of him and the other in front of the chair across from him before sitting down. "Twenty questions," she declared, voice cool and firm and absent of emotion. "One for each you eat."

"Cute," Danny bit out, looking down at the food. Who's to say she didn't poison it when her body blocked his view? "What are you, my mother?"

"No, and that counts," she replied, picking up one of her own celery sticks and taking a bite. It was such a human action, but somehow, she made it look… _not_. When he didn't eat after a moment, she made a show of switching their plates and transferring one of the sticks from her new plate to hit, making it so he still had twenty and she had nineteen. "Start eating or I'm not answering anything else."

Danny looked down at the plate, then up at the woman stealing his sister's body. She was obviously content to let Jazz eat from either plate, and she needed Jazz for something. That meant she wouldn't do anything to harm Jazz's body.

He picked up a celery stick and ate it. "What's your name?" It was as good a place to start as any.

Not-Jazz picked up a second celery stick and handed it to him, as if to ensure he would eat it while she spoke. Reluctantly, he accepted it and took a bite. "I don't have one."

Because of course she didn't. And the way she said it, too, like Jazz had perfected that disaffected therapist vibe she was always yearning for. But Jazz never got the voice right. Not like this woman.

Danny picked up another celery stick after finishing the last. "Why did you save me?"

She paused, making sure to finish her own bite before speaking. The wait was going to kill him, doing this eighteen- _seventeen_\- more times.

"I have a vested interest in you, Danny. You're very important to me."

"Why?"

"Celery stick."

Danny let out a frustrated huff and ate the stick in his hand. She wasn't planning on giving him a straight answer to anything, that much was obvious, and asking her 'why' over and over again like a two-year-old was just going to waste his questions. "How do I get you out of my sister's body?"

She smirked, a look that was surprisingly rare on his know-it-all sister. She had too much empathy for that. "You don't do anything," the woman replied. "She'll get her body back in an hour- well, half an hour now. So I'd suggest you get cracking on those snacks."

He shoved two into his mouth at once, and she let out a breathy laugh, amused. Danny took the time spent eating to think about her, about why she would do what she did and why he mattered to her. He obviously did, said so herself, but why? He'd have to figure out who she was to get the answer, as she clearly wasn't giving it up without a fight. "How old are you and when did you die?"

She ate a celery stick before answering this time, and Danny was pretty sure it was just to be an asshole and take back the time he'd tried to save. "Not dead," she declared. "And I'm about ten or twenty thousand years old."

The age didn't shock him as much as the 'not dead' part. How was she possessing his sister if not by overshadowing? At least he got one clue: she would have been around when Pariah Dark reigned.

"Did you know Pariah Dark? Personally?"

"Yes," she answered simply, not giving any more information than he asked for.

Danny rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat. This woman was millennia old; she wasn't going to offer up anything freely. "_How did you know him_?" Danny growled.

She smiled coyly and sat back in her seat, acting a charismatic mirror to his slouch. "We ran in the same circles."

"_Goddammit_!" He pushed the table and stood up, but she didn't even flinch, just raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed by his outburst. "Are you going to give me _anything_\- and that doesn't count as a question!"

"I will when you ask the right question." She didn't refute him, so at least there was that.

Slowly, Danny sat back down and fixed the table, staring at the woman before him intently. He was nearly halfway through his questions. He needed to be smarter about this.

Obviously something about this latest fight had triggered the possession, so what did it? He'd been fighting a new ghost, someone on the levels of Undergrowth and Nocturn and Vortex, but it had fire powers. He hadn't even gotten the ghost's name when _she _showed up. He thought she was Jazz at first and tried to tell her to get out, but she just reached straight through the ghost and _squeezed_. The ghost was gone in a puff of black smoke, and the mystery woman hauled him off.

"Why this fight?"

Her smirk was closer to an actual smile this time, and Danny knew he was getting somewhere. Any hint of that smile was gone in an instant, and for a second, Danny saw Jazz. "You would have lost." She turned her head away, and the emotion was gone. "You would have lost badly, too. A ghost with an ice core going up a fire elemental?" She scoffed. "You're lucky I showed up when I did."

Okay, so she cared enough to keep him from losing a fight. She said he was important to her, but now he knew she actually cared about him. She was afraid for him, even if she tried not to show it. That meant she knew him, or at least knew of him.

Not for the first time since the fight, his eyes darted to the glowing green amulet around her neck. It wasn't like Dora and Aragon's, no. This one had a longer chain and only had to be placed over the wearer's head, no clasp in sight. He'd tried grabbing it off her, but it just burned him. He'd given it a couple more shots before giving up.

"It's not coming off, kid."

Danny's eyes darted back up to Jazz's face. That was the first time she'd offered information without a question. He was definitely moving in the right direction. "What's the amulet called?" Because if it was some supernatural, 10-20 thousand-year-old artifact, it had a name.

"The Soul of Souls," she replied.

"And you're connected to it." It wasn't a question, just a statement of fact, and she didn't respond. A magical amulet from God-knows-where that did God-knows-what and was _clearly_ from the Ghost Zone-

Wait. That was it. Jazz knew better than to screw around with things from the Ghost Zone, especially jewelry. It always seemed to hold more power than other artifacts and could do anything, from turning the wearer into a dragon to… well, letting something possess the wearer.

"Why did Jazz put the amulet on?"

Another half-smile, like she liked that he was figuring it out and this was all just a game for her or a test for him. Actually, it did feel reminiscent of when Mr. Lancer let him do that make-up test and he got a 91. Was that what this was?

"Your sister's smart, Danny," the woman declared. "She knew your powers wouldn't stand up against a fire elemental and decided my help was needed."

Finally, it seemed the woman actually slipped up. Danny had only found out about elementals in the past month; there was no logical way for Jazz to know what they are unless there was someone else involved. "Who told her about elementals?"

The woman gave him that stupid, smirky, half-smile again, and Danny wanted to bang his head against the table. Of course she hadn't divulged that information on accident. Everything she did was methodical, carefully laid out to lead him where she wanted him to go. "I did."

Danny glanced down at his plate; there were only eight celery sticks left, eight questions before she cut him off because even though she wanted him to get somewhere, she'd just as readily leave him standing in the desert without a map. "When did you two meet?"

"About three months ago," the woman replied nonchalantly. "You're running out of questions, Danny."

Hell. Was that supposed to be a warning that he'd gone off the path? No, it had to be relevant. Jazz started acting weird three months ago and was super defensive any time he or their parents mentioned her behavior change. They all chalked it up to her being kidnapped by the Fright Knight back then, but there were still a lot of unanswered questions about that day, namely _what happened to him?_ He was gone before Danny or his parents could get to her, and Jazz only said someone saved her without going into detail. Every time one of them tried asking more about it, she shut them down and changed the subject.

Danny got out of his seat and walked around the table, yanking not-Jazz out of her chair as well.

"Hey!" she snapped. "Did your mother never teach you how to handle a lady?"

Danny looked her over, taking in everything that he could. The amulet, the orange hair Jazz had cut six inches off of a month ago, the all-black outfit that was now so obviously meant for hiding in shadows… and the boots. The boots Jazz wore every day since about a week after her kidnapping, and it had taken her another two weeks to figure out how to walk in them properly. At first Danny had thought it was the heel, but no- it wasn't even an inch tall and had a wide base like any generic boot. So why had she walked with a limp the first two weeks?

Without warning, Danny pushed not-Jazz down and yanked at her boots. She'd have a bruised butt when it was done, but hey, she was the one who decided to put on the amulet.

The woman gave him a good kick in the nose, but Danny wrestled the left boot off of her and shook it over the floor. After a moment, a glowing green ring fell out. That… wasn't what he expected.

Shaking hands went to pick it up, and he turned it over in his fingers, and sure enough, the front had a skull with red eyes on it. Danny dropped the ring, stunned and confused, and turned his attention back to the boot. He peered inside and saw something else strapped to the inside, and he pulled it out: a tiny dagger, dark grey with a faint green tinge. A carving of a jack-o-lantern sat at the top of the hilt, and Danny thought back to where else he'd seen it. He took a deep breath, and his voice came out far more level than he expected, cold even.

"Why does my sister have the Ring of Rage and a mini replica of the Soul Shredder?"

He was down to six questions now, but he didn't think he needed them.

Not-Jazz took her boot and put it back on, staring Danny down the entire time. "It's not a replica; it's just been made smaller so it's easier for her to carry around and hide."

"Answer. My question."

A beat passed, then another, then another. Finally- "Because it's hers. The sword anyway; the ring is just for her to keep it safe."

Danny dropped both items, and not-Jazz snatched them up, shoving them back in her boot. "You… you're… the ghost just vanished today, like Tucker did when- when-" He let out a shaking breath and stood back up, barely making it back to his chair before collapsing in it.

His eyes darted to the amulet again as the woman stood up and took her own seat. "The amulet lets you control her instead of the other way around. You're the Soul Shredder, and Jazz is the Fright Knight."

Not-Jazz- the fucking _Soul Shredder_\- finally gave him a real smile, one that looked like one of Jazz's patent Soft Smiles she offered whenever he was stressed. "I am," she confirmed. It seemed that the whole pretense of 20 Questions was gone now. "Unfortunately, the amulet was designed to stay locked onto the wearer for an hour in the event of capture, so we still have about ten minutes."

"How the hell did Jazz become the Fright Knight? Is it- what, she beat the old one that night? Is that it?"

"No," the Soul Shredder replied simply. "He kidnapped her in retaliation for her earning the mantle he lost. She didn't even know until he told her."

Danny shook his head in disbelief. "This is insane," he breathed. "How did she- when did she- isn't the Fright Knight supposed to serve the Ghost King?"

The Soul Shredder raised an eyebrow, and that _unhumanness_ settled in again. "In no particular order," she said coolly, "it happened the day of the invasion, I chose her because she locked your parents in a closet for you, and yes. She is."

"You… you chose her?" Blink, blink. "She locked our parents in the closet?"

It took him another minute to process, and he furrowed his brows together in confusion. "I don't understand why she could serve Pariah Dark."

Her laugh echoed in his ears, resonating but hollow in its amusement. "Oh God, I thought my test was sufficient to prove you were smart enough, but I should have let it continue!" She looked at Danny, noting his 'huh?' face and let out a sigh. "Pariah Dark's not the king anymore, sweetheart. You are."

Danny's blood ran cold at the claim. "What? No, that doesn't make any sense! Isn't royalty like, an inherited thing?"

"Or through trial by combat. You defeated him, so you're the king… But God, we need to work on your reasoning skills." She shook her head and tutted her tongue. "Honestly…"

"I didn't… I'm not… Vlad's the one who locked the sarcophagus. I don't even know where the key is," Danny explained.

The Soul Shredder rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, Masters locked the door, but is he the one who shut it? No, that was you. You were the one who challenged Pariah Dark, the one who fought him, who beat him, who held the door closed long enough for it to be locked-"

"I didn't challenge any-"

_I accept your challenge._

The words echoed in Danny's mind. He hadn't understood it at the time, but everything was happening so fast he didn't bother to process. "Trial by combat, huh? And Jazz is my knight?"

The Soul Shredder nodded, a teasing (almost _mocking_, really) smile on her face. "_That's right_," she sang. She stood up and gripped the pendant hanging from her neck. "Now if you don't mind, I'm running out of time here with her, so you might want to be ready to catch."

With that, she pulled the amulet over her head, and Danny barely had time to catch his sister before she fell unconscious to the floor.


End file.
